


sinking like a stone in the sea

by heretowinbitch



Series: we may never work,  but my god are we good at pretending [3]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 08:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19103548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heretowinbitch/pseuds/heretowinbitch
Summary: anonymous said:Brio: after Rio says Beth is just work, Beth disappears for a few days. Annie rushes to Rio for help finding her and together the look for Beth. Maybe have backstory of her doing this before like their mom. And they find Beth hiding in a motel or something."you know, last time you ladies called me up - "he doesn't even get the sentence out before ruby is stopping him,  one hand up,  palm out,  and he looks immediately pissed that she'd have the audacity to interrupt.   "this ain't about us,  okay?  and it's not business,  it's beth."something flashes across his eyes briefly,  but it's gone too quickly to decipher,  and he shifts his shoulders,  hands folded in front of him.  "elizabeth and i already talked the other day,"   a pause as he glances between them,  expression mild.  "she didn't tell you?"  ruby and annie share a look,   and there's something amused in his expression,  even though his jaw is a tense line.    "look,  i don't got all day.  already told her i been busy,  and i can't help with her little fertilizer problem in the garden."





	sinking like a stone in the sea

it's not because of him.

 

it's about more than that, she tells herself, more than the feeling of betrayal, of shock, of emptiness that followed their last conversation. it doesn't matter that it had felt like a blow to the body,  like she'd been physically punched in the gut with the words  _that's it_.  beth is not some high school girl with a crush pining after some guy who  -  as it turns out  - had just been using her.

 

no, she's a grown woman, pining after a guy who'd just been using her.

 

 _no_. she's not pining.

and it's not because of him.

 

it's not because of the way she keeps waking up in the middle of the night from dreams that star him in various states.  sometimes he's touching her  -  hands gripping her skin,  teeth scraping across her collarbone,  fingers deep inside her  -  and she wakes gasping and it feels wrong somehow,  but she can't help but try and touch herself the way he had been in her dream,  try and release the ache he causes even when he's not there.

except she can't quite reach the same spot and she's sobbing in frustration before she falls back to sleep again,  exhausted and unsatisfied.

 

sometimes he's yelling at her  -  in her face,  in that too-close-for-comfort way that is his preference,  telling her truths she doesn't want to hear.  and it's not always the things he's told her before  -  _you ain't nothin'_ ,  _i don't need you_ ,  _you're a drug dealer_ ,  _get your head straight_.   sometimes it's words from another life,  another mouth,  but in his voice,  from his lips  -  _you think you're better than me?  you'll never be anything_.  _all you'll ever be is this_.  _never get out of this town_ ,  _never amount to anything_. 

she wakes up angry from those dreams, blames it on him, but a little bit on her mother, and dean, and everyone who ever made her feel small.

she blames herself, too, for _letting_ them.

 

in the worst of them, he barely says anything  -  just looks at her with cool amusement,  that expression that's always just on the verge of laughter.  and it makes her chest ache because even her subconscious knows that this has all been a joke to him,  tells her how stupid she'd been as his dream-face stares at her with a crooked smile and cruelty in his eyes.  even her subconscious recognizes that while she had been falling,  he had been _laughing_ ,  and no amount of tears will wash away that laughter in his eyes.

she wakes up crying anyway.

 

 _that's what i am to you?_  
_pretty much, yeah._  
_that's it?  
_ _that's it._

 

she relives it multiple times a day.  the conversation,  her shame,  her embarrassment,  her grief.

because that's what it is,  really,  grief. 

she's mourning a feeling,  a seed she'd planted,  but that he'd cultivated,  tended to,  encouraged to grow.  she's mourning the way she'd thought there was something _there_   because of the way he seemed to listen to her,  trust her,  teach her.  and it's only beginning to dawn on her,  the truth of it.  _of course_   -  she'd been shut out,  ignored,  belittled her entire life,  so why wouldn't beth lean into the first person who told her she could be something?  it was almost impossible for her not to fall a little bit,  and he'd known it.  so _of course_ he'd used it against her.

 

she still tells herself it's not about him as she's throwing some clothes in a duffel.  it's about her impending divorce,  the body in her garden that's not who she thought,  a witness still out there somewhere who could bring the world crashing down on top of her.  it's about the threat of jail time,  of losing her children,  of losing _everything_.

 

she tells herself it's not about him because she can't lose him too.

because you can't lose something that  -  as it turns out  -  was never _yours_.

 

* * *

 

after the first day of not hearing from her , annie is only slightly alarmed by the radio silence.  it's not like beth keeps in constant contact with her  _every day_.   sometimes,  life gets busy.  sometimes,  a couple of days might go by.  besides,  dean is off on some road trip with the kids to see family out of state ( because apparently getting fired means a vacation  -  she rolls her eyes just thinking about it )  and so beth might be enjoying a little me time,  maybe just getting in touch with herself,  or whatever it is  -  _self care_.  she hasn't called dean,  refuses to call him,  because she thinks she knows what this is,  and she thinks it'll work itself out.

 

after the second day,  she calls ruby,  asks her to meet at beth's,  and they try to search for clues.  the van is gone,  so it's not like she's been abducted or anything.  there's no sign of a struggle in the house  -  all beds are made,  dishes are done,  everything seems in place on a surface level.  annie doesn't know enough about beth's luggage to notice if anything is missing,  and her sister always keeps her passport in her purse ( well, ever since their international visit to see big mike,  at least ).

 

on day three,  though,  she's frantic.

 

"what do you think happened to her?" 

 

annie is pacing back and forth in her small living room while ruby watches from the couch.  by now she's chewed off all of her acrylics  ( and she got them done less than a week ago )  and is working on her actual nails.  ruby looks concerned but also is used to annie's panicking process by now,  so she lets her try and work it out before jumping in.   "i mean,"   she stops pacing, throwing her hands up before allowing them to flap to her sides.  "if she got arrested,  we would be her call,  right?  we'd know?"  ruby just nods,  because stan would have told them something  -  just because he's suspended,  doesn't mean he doesn't have an ear to the ground.  annie starts to pace again.   "okay,  okay.  so she's not home,  hasn't been home,  she's not with dean,  she isn't answering her phone -" 

"but her phone isn't off or dead,"  ruby interjects,  because they'd called her a hundred times and it doesn't go straight to voicemail.  somehow knowing this makes them both feel a little bit worse.  the idea that beth is fine  ( probably )  but keeping radio silence on purpose,  not at home,  and hasn't bothered to let either of them know that she's okay.

 

"right, so either she's fine, or someone stole it and has a charger."

 

that doesn't help,  either,  and annie flops on the couch next to ruby,  whining as she leans into her friend's shoulder.  "what to we do?"

 

ruby leans her head on top of annie's and sighs.   "i think we have to call him, right?  i mean..."    annie huffs at the suggestion immediately.    "dean won't know what to do about this.  she tells him,  like,  nothing."    but ruby is shaking her head already and straightening again.   "not _dean_ ,  annie."   and annie peers up at her in confusion,  not quite getting it until ruby sighs,  brows up.   " _gang friend_  ?"  this elicits a groan and annie buries her head in ruby's shoulder.   "ugh,  that's even _worse_!"  at the snort in response to that,  annie sighs again.  "okay,  maybe not _worse_ ,  but,  like  -  a different _kind_ of bad."

 

there's a long pause before annie murmurs   "at least when _mom_ used to disappear she didn't actually  _go_   anywhere,  she just disappeared like _inside_ _herself_ ,  safe at home,  in her own bed."   ruby strokes her hair,  nodding.   annie had seemed so young back then,  beth being the one left with the responsibilities,  with the role of stand-in mom that had basically turned into  _actual_   mom.  it had taken a toll,  but she hadn't realized just how much annie had picked up on it,  other than noticing her mother spending more time in bed. 

 _the things you think you're keeping from_   _them_ ,  her own voice echoes in her head,  and ruby sighs. 

they make plans to ask rio for a meeting if they haven't heard from beth by morning.

 

* * *

 

"you know, last time you ladies called me up - "

 

he doesn't even get the sentence out before ruby is stopping him,  one hand up,  palm out,  and he looks immediately pissed that she'd have the audacity to interrupt.   "this ain't about us,  okay?  and it's not business,  it's beth."

 

something flashes across his eyes briefly,  but it's gone too quickly to decipher,  and he shifts his shoulders,  hands folded in front of him.  "elizabeth and i already talked the other day,"   a pause as he glances between them,  expression mild.  "she didn't tell you?"  ruby and annie share a look,   and there's something amused in his expression,  even though his jaw is a tense line.    "look,  i don't got all day.  already told her i been busy,  and i can't help with her little fertilizer problem in the garden."

 

annie gapes at him for a moment, baffled.  "wha- no.  we're not here about jeff!"  his brows go up in silent question and ruby rolls her eyes.  "he's - he's mary pat's husband,"  annie continues.  "the _rotten egg_ ,"   adds ruby.  rio says nothing,  unimpressed and unamused.  "look,"  annie starts,  and he lets her,  doesn't move other than to shift his weight from one foot to the other,  doesn't interrupt.  but his expression darkens as though they'd called him to the park to waste his time and he's going to prove just how bad an idea that's been once they're done.  "i don't know what you and beth talked about the other day,  but she's gone."

 

this,  at least,  seems to surprise him enough that his mask cracks a little.  he's not in full-on panic mode like annie,  or silent worry like ruby,  but something's different,  and ruby notes it immediately.   "what,  like she took a vacation?"  it's almost genuine curiosity but he masks it with that heavy sarcasm that makes it questionable that he really gives a shit.  ruby sighs.  "so,  you haven't been keeping tabs on her,  then?"   his gaze slides her way,  eyes narrowed,  brows knitting together.  "i mean, for a while there we just figured -"    he's frowning,  like he can't quite make sense of these women and their ridiculous questions,  and annie jumps in as if to help.   "you were like straight up _stalking_ her,  dawg,  we figured  - maybe... you still were?"  she starts out strong,  but by the end her words come out in a quiet,  hesitant voice  ( one that's kind of hopeful ).

 

nothing in his expression seems to change,  outwardly.  but something shifts,  and he steps closer to them,  hands moving to his jacket pockets.  both sets of eyes staring back at him widen,  as though they're afraid a gun might be in his hand when he pulls them out again,  and both annie and ruby take a small step back,  as if prepared to run.  "what,"  he starts slowly,  but his voice is low and menacing  -  _dangerous_.    "are you bitches talkin' about?"

 

ruby swallows,  annie stutters.

he only gets more frustrated,  they've learned to notice it by now,  learned to read the air around him.  he still looks calm,  collected,  not-quite-bothered by the whole situation.  but his jaw is clenched,  his shoulders stiff,  and the energy rolling off of him speaks of silent warnings.

 

"i'm gonna need someone to gimme an answer  -  like,  now."

 

"she's missing,"   annie blurts and it's the first time the panic has really manifested since this meeting started,  and her voice breaks like she's about to launch into hysterics.  he turns,  and for a wildly tense moment,  ruby thinks he's about to bounce,  and she's just about to grab his arm  ( which,  is probably a terrible idea )  when he pulls his phone out,  puts it to his ear.   "she won't answer,"   she supplies helpfully,  and he turns to glare back at her.  sure enough,  seconds later,  he's tucking the phone back into the pocket.

 

"so that's a no,  then,  on the stalking?"   annie asks,  eyes wide and with a little bit of hope still clinging to the words.  his sigh,  and the way his eyes search the ground in the first display of anything other than bold,  dominant,  confidence that the girls have ever seen in the time they've known him,  is answer enough.

 

they spend about thirty minutes talking it through.  when they'd all seen her last,  how she seemed,  what was said. 

rio is quiet, and while this isn't exactly uncharacteristic of him,  _this time_ it speaks volumes.  the girls don't press.

 

he makes some phone calls, sends a few texts, and meanwhile annie talks about their mother,  and how she would have these episodes where she'd just sort of withdraw.  beth has had them too,  but always coinciding with a pregnancy,  always chalked up to postpartum  ( it had been really bad with jane,  part of why she'd gotten her tubes tied,  even beth had known she couldn't go through it again ).  there have been a few times with all of the dean stuff that she's spent a day in bed,  but never disappeared.  rio listens thoughtfully at this part,  at least  -  ruby thinks  -  he  _seems_   thoughtful,  but maybe he's pissed,  annoyed,  indifferent.  sometimes it's difficult to tell.

 

as annie talks,  and ruby fills in any blanks,  rio's expression gets harder,  darker,  and truly,  neither one of them wants to broach the subject.  but finally,  annie apparently can't stand it any longer.

 

"so, like, what did you two talk about the other day?"  she's trying for casual,   it sounds like prying.   and that's what it is,  really,  because they've all shared their stories,  and he still hasn't elaborated beyond having told her he's been  _busy_ ,  apparently,  and the fact that it's not the whole story hadn't been lost on any of them.  

 

the look he gives her is hard,  pinning her into place,  and annie visibly cowers from it.  they sit like that for a long while  -  the girls on the swings  ( the middle swing pointedly empty ),  rio on the picnic table  -  and she's just about given up on him answering when he stands abruptly.

 

"talked about your homie,  the case,  legoland."    annie doesn't even try to correct his qualification of boomer,  but both girls exchange bewildered expressions,  and he continues  -  but not before sighing,  and something in his voice is different when he speaks again,  something neither of them have heard before.  for a strange moment that seems suspended in time,  a pause in reality,  annie wonders is beth has  -  if she's heard that different tone,  seen the almost softening of his expression  ( almost,  because it's not soft,  not really,  just _different_ ).   

"i was pissed."   this doesn't clear anything up for them,  but they remain silent,  because he looks like he's working his way to something.  his jaw rocks and he licks his lips before a sardonic smile adds a crooked sort of twist to his lips,  and he huffs out an _almost_ laugh that feels self-deprecating in the space between them,  and ruby thinks this might be the most honest glimpse of him they've ever gotten.    "she pissed me off.  i reacted.   didn't think she'd do this,  though."  annie's eyes are wide and full of anger,  and she's up from her swing immediately,  ruby following.  "i don't give a shit who you are,  i swear to god if you touched her -"

he doesn't move beyond the quirk of one brow,  the tilt of his head.

 

"relax.  i don't mean it like that.  we just had words is all."

 

both girls seem to relax slightly,  but his phone buzzes at that moment,  and he glances at it,  lips pursing before he looks back up,  nods.   "think we got a lead."

 

* * *

 

it's been three days,  but beth wouldn't know it.  time moves differently in an old dingy motel room with the curtains closed,  free hbo,  and two bottles of booze she'd picked up at the liquor store down the road.

 

there's been some horror movie marathon on all weekend,  and she remembers thinking annie would be sad to miss it,  but after about half a bottle of cheap vodka ( she couldn't bring herself to get bourbon  -  even that has apparently been tainted for her ), beth had stopped caring.

 

the thing is,  when she's drunk,  she doesn't dream so much.  but something about spending the weekend drunk in her own home with her own things and smells and sounds had sounded completely unappealing.  it might have something to do with the fact that she all but feels his presence in her kitchen from time to time,  smells his cologne in her sheets  ( it's not there,  she washed them,  it's just her imagination punishing her for her foolishness ).   but it might be the emptiness,  the fact that her kids are gone with dean for the weekend. 

and she knows she could have called annie and ruby,  made it a girls' weekend.

but really,  beth just wanted to be alone.

 

that's what she tells herself,  at least,  along with that ongoing mantra that reminds her that _this is not about him_.

 

it's been three days,  and if she were more aware of her surroundings,  the passing of time,  maybe she'd have had the wherewithal to reach out to annie and ruby,  let them know she's okay  ( sort of ).  maybe she'd have the sense to be pissed about the fact that dean hasn't even called or texted,  doesn't find it weird at all that she's gone three days without reaching out to talk to her babies.  maybe she'd have the awareness to feel guilty about that,  to feel like a failure as a mother,  just as her mother before her.

but she's not aware of much beyond the barely-there warmth of the motel bedspread,  the constant buzzed state she's keeping herself in,  and the drone of the television.

 

* * *

 

 "are you sure this is the place?"  

annie is full of nervous energy,  and she's gesturing almost wildly at the little motel just off of route 127.  it's not impressive  ( though slightly more appealing than the simple stay-over ),  and annie can't really imagine her sister _willingly_ visiting a place like this.   "do you think she was,  like,   _taken_   here?"    rio turns to give her a hard look,  but something about the way his eyebrows round out where they'd been working on a furrow makes ruby gasp.   "you  _don't_ think that,  right?"   he turns to her next,  and the only response to this line of questioning is a sigh,  coupled with the deliberate movements he takes to remove the gun from the waistband of his black jeans.  both ruby and annie suck in a sharp breath in unison,  and he almost rolls his eyes,  looking them each over for the span of a heavy pause before nodding slightly. 

"wait here."

"hold on,  what?"   annie's already moving to reach and stop him at the same time ruby adds   "i don't  _think so_."   and he whirls on them,  somehow effectively being in both of their personal spaces at once,  a fire in his eyes that neither woman has ever seen.  ruby has a split second to wonder if this is the kind of thing beth has gotten to see all along  -  a passion usually so contained beneath the surface.  for the first time,  she thinks maybe there's been more to it than the  _thrill_   for her best friend,  because she can almost understand the pull.  even in his anger,  it's magnetic.   

"look,  this ain't a negotiation.  i'm goin' in there,  and you're both stayin' right here."   annie huffs,  his arm moves,  and for a moment ruby really thinks he's about to point the gun at them just to keep them from following.  but there's something almost reluctant in his eyes when he huffs out an annoyed breath.   "you really wanna be in there if shit goes sideways  -  if she   _didn't_   come here on her own?"   and no,  they don't,  because while neither of them has seen it first hand,  they've _both_   seen the aftermath of his gun skills,  and no matter the shit between him and beth  ( because clearly there's something that neither of them is aware of ),  they can silently agree that if there's someone in that hotel room that did something to her,  they aren't going to come out of it as lucky as dean.   so it doesn't take much more than that for the two of them to back off,  and rio jerks his head toward the car.    "go wait.  won't be long."   annie swallows as they watch him remove the safety,  cock the gun.  but he turns back  -  waiting for them to leave before entering the motel room.

 

* * *

 

"i don't like this,"  ruby mutters for the third time,  once they're both sitting in the backseat of rio's cadillac,  staring hard at the motel room door.  he hasn't gone in yet,  and she thinks maybe he's listening for any signs of movement from within.   

"it was  _your idea_   to call him,"   annie points out,  and ruby shoots her an impatient look. 

"yeah,  and we actually   _got somewhere_   by doing it."    this earns her a scoff,  but annie doesn't argue any further,  because she's wringing her hands together,  chewing on the inside of her cheek,  watching as rio tries the door and  -  presumably finding it unlocked  ( or maybe breaks the lock somehow,  it's tough to make out )  -  slips inside. 

ruby holds her breath.

 

* * *

 

she knows she's asleep,  because he's there again. 

beth can sense his presence before she sees him,  feel the way he takes up space like his energy is a tangible thing,  something she might be able to reach out and touch  ( if she had the right,  but she doesn't,  not anymore  -  and maybe she never did ).  it's kind of unfair,  the way she's so attuned to him in every way,  and he can so easily dismiss her as nothing.  she catches the scent of him next,  and it curls something painfully in her chest,  enough so that she rolls over on the bed  ( dream bed,  of course ),  burying her face in the dream pillow.  she hasn't opened her eyes to look at him,  squeezes them shut against what comes next.  any minute now,  it'll be the same.  he'll either touch her,  yell at her,  or laugh at her. 

she doesn't want any of the above.

 

* * *

 

truth be told,  he's not really sure what he'd expected.

maybe that someone _had_ taken her  -  heard about his weakness for one copper-haired mama,  thought she might be good for leverage,   _bait_   maybe.  he'd thought maybe it'd be a firefight,  because he'd already known when the address had come through in a text,  that there was a possibility,  that maybe she pulled some bullshit like that night with her kid's blanket,  like maybe she went lookin' for trouble to piss him off. 

or maybe that she'd cut a deal with turner,  that she was runnin' her mouth,  and the feds got her in protective custody.  in that case,  he'd figured he'd have to scare her a little.  carlos had disagreed,  expecting a more permanent solution.  not that he'd said so in so many words,  but they been working together a long time,  and rio could tell just from the tone of his texts that he couldn't figure out why the boss kept letting this one slide.  he's not the first to question it.

in none of the scenarios he'd pictured  -  and he has a pretty vivid imagination  -  had he seen this.

annie had spun a story of a family history that should've painted a similar picture.  but he's been standing too close to elizabeth's fire for too long  -  soaking in her heat,  burning from it  -  that he hadn't even considered -

she buries her face in the pillow and the movement snaps him back to reality.  she hasn't opened her eyes,  but he knows she's awake.  the whole room smells of stale air and booze,  and his gaze sweeps over it,  taking in the empty bottle of vodka and the second that's well on its way.  he's never seen her drink it,  and he frowns at the sight,  and the way this unknown glimpse of her makes him uncomfortable.  maybe he'd been wrong when he'd said he knows her.  maybe he'd been wrong about a lot of things.

he doesn't give attention to the way his chest tightens,  doesn't allow it to distract him right now.  he'd cut her loose,  it had been necessary.

 _then why are you here_ _?_

he ignores that voice,  too.  it sounds a little like hers.

there's no reaction as he approaches the bed,  but when he presses a hand to her shoulder,  she flinches back  -  turning to open her eyes,  finally,  and what he sees there is a hundred times worse than the hurt that had flashed over her face in his car a few days ago.  it leaves him raw on the inside,  and he all but recoils back from her. 

"elizabeth -"

"don't." 

it's vehement,  like that fire is licking beneath the surface,  but the word still sounds choked out on a sob as she scrambles up into a sitting position,  back against the headboard  ( which creaks beneath the force as she rushes it ),  knees up,  arms wrapping around them as if she might be able to hold herself together like that.  she stares at him wide-eyed like an animal,  spooked,  and for a long time he stares back,  at a loss.

"your girls are outside,"  he says finally,  and she looks at him like he's speaking another language.

 

* * *

 

 _your girls are outside_.

that's a new one,  and beth just stares at him,  waiting for the other shoe to drop  -  waiting for whatever punishment her subconscious has cooked up for her this time. 

it never comes,  and she notices the gun in his hand a little belatedly,  eyes darting down to it,  then back up to his face.  he clocks it,  the shift in her gaze,  and a frown tugs at the corners of his mouth as he moves to tuck it back in his jeans.

"don't,"  she says again,  but there's calm wrapped around it now,  and he looks at her again,  eyes a little wider,  a little rounder  -  almost in that innocent way he uses when he's playing up a situation,  trying to teach her a lesson.  he's not playing now,  beth can read that in his eyes.   because she knows him,  she thinks,  but hadn't he proved her wrong before?  she lets out a little mirthless chuckle.  "i mean,  you might as well kill me now."   

it's a wonder that her voice comes out steady,  almost amused.  like this is all a big joke.  and maybe it is,   maybe this is the world's giant cosmic joke on one suburban mother who'd thought she could be more.  it is kind of funny,  she thinks,  and laughs a little more.   he stares at her thoughtfully for a minute before slowly sinking down on the bed beside her,  laying the gun on the nightstand.

"you wanna die now?  put me through all that shit just to give up?"

she blinks up at him,  because he misunderstood,  because she doesn't know how to explain it,  because why does it matter when he'll be gone as soon as she wakes up anyway.

she rests her chin on her knee and shakes her head,  a sad little smile turning up the corners of her lips.

"no.  but my life is over,  anyway."

he just looks at her,  waiting for an explanation,  confusion creasing between his brows and across his forehead.

"i'm going away for that body,  you know.   and they're going to pin boomer's murder on me too  -  even though he's still alive.  do you think i'll ever get out after two murder charges?  i'm thinking no.  i think our friend jimmy is probably going to spin a really good story,  make me out to have been a killer all along."   she pauses,  tilts her head so that her cheek rests on her knee now,  peers up at him.  "did you know that turner told ruby's husband that he could find someone to lie  -  a witness,  maybe falsify evidence?"  he looks back at her blankly,  and she shrugs one shoulder.  "yeah."   the smile turns wistful,  and she takes in the way his lashes cast shadows against his skin,  the way his eyes look too dark in this room,  like she's staring straight into his soul.  maybe she is.   "my divorce is finalized,  my kids are going to grow up with a mommy who's in jail.  my life is over."   

he still says nothing,  just watching her,  and she's sort of glad for it,  but doesn't really know how to continue.  "you're gone,"   she blurts at dream-rio with a frown,  because if she can say it to anyone  -  not annie,  not ruby,  not  _real_   him  -  she can say it to this shade of him that's come to join her in her darkest hour.   she hums,  considering,  and the smile fades.    "but i guess i never really had you to begin with,  so that probably shouldn't count.  but it counts."   

his lips sort of purse,  and she's starting to feel a little uncomfortable about the fact that he hasn't started yelling at her yet.  she's about to tell him to get on with it when he gives her that crooked smile,  one brow rising.  and she hates it,  the way it warms something in her chest,  even knowing what she knows about his feelings  ( or lack thereof ).  she's so distracted for a moment,  that she almost doesn't register what he's said.  but beth is pretty sure it was  -  "could turn me in again."

beth scoffs.  not only because she knows this is a joke,  a test,  but because it doesn't matter. 

"even if i wanted to,  turner doesn't want you."   he watches her,  rubbing a hand over his jaw,  and just when she thinks he's about to ask more about that,  beth stops him.  "i learned my lesson the first time."

"yeah?"

"yeah,"  she agrees,  and then it pours out of her like an unstoppable wave.   "even if i wanted to  -  and i don't,  for the record  -  i have nothing.  you've given me nothing.  that partnership was a sham,  you never told me anything about your business,  i never knew enough to implicate you,  i have nothing.  i  _am_   nothing  -  you kept trying to tell me but i wasn't listening.   but i hear you now,  i get it.  here's me,  nothing,  at the bottom of the barrel,  you know?  and even if i wanted to  -  and again,  i  _don't_   -  there's nothing i could give them that would keep you locked away.  and then we'd be right back at the start,  except maybe you'd shoot _me_ this time because i'm the real rotten egg,  right?"   she's on the verge of tears,  now,  and it's ridiculous,  really,  but it's the first time since she checked into this rotten motel room and started to drown her sorrows that the sorrows have actually started to come out. 

it feels good,  letting them go,  and they start drawing trails down her cheeks.  she's nearly hyperventilating by the time she finds it in herself to continue.  "and i don't know why you haven't gotten rid of me yet,  if i'm nothing,  you know?  i can't be that important to your bottom line."

 

* * *

 

 _nothing_.

she says it so many times that it beings to brand itself into his brain.  

the moment the tears start falling,  he wants to reach out and brush them away,  wants to tell her to take a breath,  to focus.  wants to pull her against him and  -  no.  logically,  he knows this ain't all about him.  he knows this is a bunch of shit piling up until she can't carry it anymore.  but fuck,  if he doesn't feel like a piece of shit when she starts crying,  like he's responsible for the way she'd tucked herself away in an awful motel room with cheap booze and her despair.  

he is responsible,  a bit,  but he didn't drag her into this life  -  she'd already been a criminal when they met.

still,  he probably doesn't get to comfort her when she's right  -  the partnership had been a sham,  for the most part.  sure,  he'd kept to the 50/50 deal she'd strong-armed him into.  he'd been impressed by the way she handled her shit,  and he'd let her take a piece as a reward.  he was still training her,  then,  figured it'd work in his favor eventually.   but she's right,  he'd kept her out of it,  for the most part,  kept her at a safe distance.  it was mostly to protect himself,  but some of it was to protect her,  too.  

not enough,  maybe,  but no one ever said he was good boss.

and still,  there's one part she's definitely wrong about.

she stares at him with eyes glimmering with tears,  squeezing her knees like maybe she wants to pull into herself,  disappear from this space.  he's not gonna let her.

reaching out,  he pushes her hair out of her face,  fingertips lingering at her jaw,  and shakes his head.

"oh,  mama,  i don't think you've ever been  _nothin'_   in your entire life."

she watches him,  silent now,  all of the words she'd had already spent.  and he thinks maybe he broke through a little,  but she gives him no indication.  for someone who's been so much of an open book to him,  he's a little thrown by how she's somehow managed to close herself off so fully in such a short amount of time.

he realizes,  then,  that this isn't a place for him.  not now.  she doesn't need him  -  she's _safe_   -  and he doesn't know how to help her in this.

he's about to move,  get up to leave  -  get the girls,  let them take care of her for now  -  when she grabs his wrist before he can let his hand fall away from her face.

"why are you here?"  it cracks something open inside him,  the way her voice curls around the words in something like sorrow and confusion,  and he doesn't want to put a name to that feeling,  but it takes him a moment to recover.

"you disappeared,  elizabeth,  people were worried."

she blinks at him,  as though some puzzle piece has just fallen into place,  and she's trying to make sense of the picture it creates.  real confusion takes over her face,  and she stares down at where her fingers are still circling his wrist,  presses against his pulse point as though she's making sure his heart still beats.  his eyes follow hers,  and he frowns at the motion.

" _son of a bitch_ ,"  she whispers,  and he's confused,  but doesn't say anything about it,  just gently pries her fingers away.  "i'm gonna go get 'em,  yeah?  your girls?"  

 

* * *

 

no.  no no.  no.

this isn't real.  it isn't real,  because he wouldn't  -  and,  and.   _i'm gonna go get 'em_.

her eyes move from where they'd been fixed on his wrist  -  now just her own fingers sort of hovering in that space,  because he's pulled himself free from her grasp,  and now he's standing,  grabbing his gun from the bedside table,  looking at her as if for permission.  she can't say anything,  can't find the words,  but he looks concerned,  really concerned,  and it hurts to see it  -  to see _him_   -  and he wants to leave,  and leaving means he won't have to see the embarrassment as it splashes red over her skin,  or the panic as it rises in her chest.  

so beth just nods.

she's running through all of the implications of everything she said having been heard by the  _real_   him when annie and ruby burst through the door and immediately envelope her in a hug that she feels all the way to her bones.  and her thoughts aren't on him anymore,  because she's sobbing into ruby's shoulder,  and annie is cry-yelling at her about how worried they've been,  and how she thought someone had taken her and that gang friend was going to have to  _pop caps in asses_   and  _you should have seen him beth,  he was scarier than usual_ ,  and she feels like an idiot for putting them through this,  because god,  she  _is_   an idiot,  and so she just holds on tighter.

 

* * *

 

she doesn't know how he gets home,  because he's not there by the time they gather her things and leave the motel room  ( not before beth makes the bed and tidies up,  though,  much to annie's chagrin ).  ruby has the keys to his car,  drives them back to beth's,  and the girls help her run a bath,  making sure to use extra lavender bath salts and bubbles. 

no one drinks,  no one even mentions wine,  and they stay with her through the night,  the three of them piling into her bed.

it's not until the next morning that beth really lets it sink in that the whole thing had been real.

and she doesn't know what to do with that.  to do with the knowledge that he had helped find her,  that he had sat there on a gross motel bed and let her cry and pour out every one of her thoughts,  her fears,  her worries,  her  _hopelessness_.  she definitely doesn't know what to do with him telling her she's never been nothing,  but emotional whiplash from him isn't a new sensation,  and she shoves it away for the time being.

 

* * *

 

 

she doesn't bring it out again until the morning of her confession,  when there's a single text waiting for her after she's done getting ready.

_your life ain't over,  mama.  don't give up yet._

she doesn't know what it means,  but it almost has her smiling as she goes to meet turner at the door.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this at 3am and planned on something short and (kinda) sweet but then this is where it took me so if you made it all the way through, thanks for reading! i'm sorry i'm such a mess for these two and this show but i'm also not sorry so it's whatever. comments/concrit/prompts always welcome and encouraged !
> 
> everything i write is unbeta'd, and mostly not proofread bc i'm bad at this stuff.


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